


Air (don't go where I can't follow)

by oneatatime



Category: Power Rangers in Space
Genre: I don't do chapters v often, M/M, cos otherwise this woulda been three million words, including some skimming, some au takes on canon events, soulbond, this is a complete work even if I messed up and it doesn't say so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:08:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22156804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneatatime/pseuds/oneatatime
Summary: Sharing everything was fine. It was good, even, until everything went to hell.
Relationships: Andros/Zhane (Power Rangers)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24
Collections: Alpha's Magical Fic Exchange 2019





	1. Into trouble

**Author's Note:**

  * For [borrowedphrases](https://archiveofourown.org/users/borrowedphrases/gifts).



There was that other kid again. Soru? No. Zhane. 

“You need to come out and get some air,” the guy said, wrapping a far too friendly arm around Andros. “C’mon, you can’t sit inside all day!” 

Andros turned in outrage at that clearly unfair statement, but he kept his voice mostly level. They were in KO-35’s biggest library, four levels in maroon and purple and people shhing each other, and they had to behave with decorum. “We were outside for three hours and twelve minutes this morning in combat practice. And I’m studying, which you should be doing, too. Or do you still think that mass equals weight?” 

Zhane made a breezy gesture, and tugged a nearby chair around to sit down in it the wrong way, facing Andros. One of those ‘hey, you thought I was obnoxious before, lemme prove it’, gestures. “Combat practice isn’t the same.” 

“The same as what?” 

“Playing. _Breathing._ You’ll do better on your scores tomorrow if you take a break and come out with me! Make you a better chance for being a Ranger!” 

. . . Andros followed the other boy outside out of irritation, and a chance to prove him wrong. They stayed out for an hour, tossing a hyper-G ball around, throwing and catching (both of them) and making improbable dives which occasionally worked and occasionally ended in ass-over-head disaster (Zhane), and laughing (Zhane. . . and eventually, Andros. Once or twice. Ahem).

He was enormously irritated when he proceeded to sleep five hours solidly and then another two, instead of the broken five or six he usually got. He was even more irritated when his marksmanship scores were improved by 3.2% and his judgement scores were improved by 2.9%. 

***

The soulmate bond on KO-35 could be with anyone. Sometimes it was a strong bond formed on first meeting. Sometimes it was family. Sometimes it was friends. Sometimes it was more than one person, like how their commander Zero, the Gold Ranger, was bonded with her lifemate Yan, Blue, and her other lifemate, Silla, who was a medic. 

Sometimes it was. . . sometimes it was someone really annoying.

Someone who kept talking to you, even when you wanted to be left alone, but sometimes he actually left you alone. 

Someone who didn’t take his Ranger training seriously at all, except for how he totally did, and worked as hard as you but just in his own way. 

Someone who you thought didn’t care about anything much except having fun, but then a store blew up one day and he was right by your side, running into the smoke, searching for people to help and enemies to fight. In that order. 

And – 

And someone whose arms you fell into, when your sister got kidnapped. 

So Andros wasn’t particularly surprised when he woke up one day with the soft warmth of a new soulmark on the inside of his wrist. This one was the same lustrous grey as the one on his ankle for Karone. It was a looping figure. Something to do with Zhane’s Ranger color? Oh. Yes. Silver. 

When he touched it, he could feel that special mental signature, the way Zhane’s lips quirked, the humor and light of him, that all meant _Zhane_. 

***

They’d started hearing each other before Karone was taken. Like the time in class where their astronavigation instructor had been really strict, chastising Andros for a mistake in his Z-axis calculations, and Andros had been shrivelling under it. Zhane was at the back of the classroom. Andros could feel his boots up on his wooden desk. He was going to get into trouble, too. Again. 

_His eyebrows look like they wanna wrestle each other._

_Zhane. Be respectful._

_Oh, c’mon. Wrestling each other’d be more fun than doing eyebrow duty on that guy’s face. You wanna go to the park later? Maybe we can talk, figure out how to get the stick out of his ass._

_Zhane!_

_You’re right, it’s probably two sticks. Maybe three._

***

Or the time when Zhane hadn’t quite gotten to a kid in trouble in time; too busy trying not to die himself while he was under attack. Kid hadn’t died, but she’d been in the hospital for days before waking up. 

Andros stretched, having just finished his own shift. Yan touched Andros’ shoulder as he passed him, throwing a smile over his own shoulder. He’d always gotten on well with this Blue. Yan stutter-stepped cheerfully down the stairs at the front of the main administration building, his black hair bobbing around him. Andros didn’t know how he did it, but even through all the attacks they’d had lately, Yan managed to maintain a positive attitude. 

_Are you training again?_

Andros flicked the thought to Zhane. Like he even had to ask, really. Zhane had spent all his free time in the gym, and he could feel it through their link although Zhane was trying to focus. The impacts against Zhane’s shoulders, knees, wrists, hands, as he kicked and punched and rolled. 

They’d always had a strong link. Stronger than most people Andros knew. Everyone could talk mind to mind at least a little, with other people they cared about, or in an emergency where strong emotion could push contact through to just about anyone. 

With the two of them, privacy only came about due to the other guy not looking at a part of your mind, or being focused on his own problems. They were constantly aware of each other. Constantly in balance with each other, which could be great when Zhane was on lunch and Andros needed someone to check his calculations, or when Andros had just woken up and Zhane was facing trouble and needed to have _duck!_ nudged at him. With that level of living inside each other’s heads, they had to be good at not intruding when it wasn’t necessary. 

It was a ~~blessing~~ pain in the behind sometimes when it meant Zhane knew too much about him, but this way around it was a help. ‘Not necessary’ was a highly subjective term. 

_Yep. Gymming away! Enjoying it, stop worrying!_

That was a blatant lie, which wasn’t supposed to be possible mind to mind. Andros guessed if Zhane made himself believe it, it counted. 

_I’ll be there in a minute._

He broke into a jog as he rounded the corner of the admin building. It was old, venerable, all in white and brown brick and stained glass. The gym was smaller and utilitarian, though inside it was well kitted out. It was down back, near the chickens. A small wooden building. 

Zhane waved at him from behind the punching bag. His eyes were hollow, and he was clearly near out of energy. Had he lost weight? He was looking a little gaunt in his white tank top and shorts. He was still making an effort to be cheeky as Andros advanced on him. Blew a kiss at Andros. 

_Brat._

He squawked as Andros thudded into him. They both fell back, against the wall, Andros’ hand behind Zhane’s head to cushion his skull. 

“You need some air,” Andros said softly, lips against Zhane’s hair, ignoring for the moment the bloodstains around the edges of the strapping on Zhane’s hands. “Come on.” 

***

Of course, their strong soulmate bond didn’t always work so great during battle. They’d had to work on it, but had finally gotten to a point where each could focus on his own problems, his own physicality, while being aware of the other. 

Didn’t matter on that particular day, though. That day when Zero and the others died, leaving great chunks of nothingness in Andros' awareness. The day when Zhane fell, and Andros nearly went with him. 

***

Two years. 

Two years, grieving the rest of the team. Everyone else they’d lost on KO-35. Two years, with the best parts of him in that cryo tube, with his partner. His lifemate. His soul. 

He closed down so hard that he could barely talk. Just kept going through the motions, saving people when he could, stopping Astronema when he could. Searching for Zordon. Getting DECA to double check his figures. Maybe Zhane would come out again. Maybe he wouldn’t. 

He told Zhane late at night, sometimes, leaning back against the tube. _You’d better come back out._ Floor was cold under his behind, but it wasn’t a hundredth as cold as the tiny spark of Zhane he could sense. He touched his soulmark. It was faded, but it hadn’t gone. 

Zhane would live. 

(He had to.) 

(Please.)

***

The new guys weren’t. . . they weren’t Zero and the others. They weren’t Zhane. 

But maybe that was a good thing. 

TJ, Cassie, Ashley and Carlos. They hadn’t been through what he’d been through, but they’d seen lives lost, they’d lost their base, they’d fought time and again and hadn’t won every fight. They were battle-hardened. They didn’t have his experiences, but he didn’t have theirs, either, and he hadn’t set off into space in a failing spaceship with no real idea of where the hell he was going. 

He liked them, and he felt guilty for it. How dare he move on. How dare he heal, even a little. 

It was both the scariest and the scariest day of his life when Zhane reappeared, because yeah, _Zhane_ , but Andros could barely even feel him. 

The hug helped. The touching helped. Hearing his voice helped. Getting him checked out by Alpha, and mostly getting a clean bill of health bar understandable exhaustion and muscle weakness, that helped a lot. But it was all one note, all tinny, up until Zhane tapped on his door that night.

“Come in,” he said absently, looking up from his notes. Then, he breathed, “Zhane.”

Zhane looked like he always had, with allowances made for two years stuck in a cryo tube. Hadn’t aged, not like Andros. Hadn’t lived through two years of loneliness. (He hadn’t been lonely. He’d been fine. No point in dwelling.) 

Also hadn’t seen air, or sunlight, or trees, for two years. 

“Is it really that surprising? Trying to shut me out?” Zhane asked teasingly, and he caught a flash of worry underneath that. 

“Never,” he said, honestly, because if it was happening, it wasn’t intentional. He patted the bunk next to himself. “Sit. Please. I’m – I’m so glad to see you.”

“Then why…?” Zhane began, softly, as he plonked himself down. He made a swirly motion next to his head, and when Andros didn’t respond, he felt Zhane open up and reach for him.

Andros lost the next few seconds. When he became aware of himself again, he was on the floor, banging his head repeatedly against something hard, then something softer, like a hand had been put in front of it. “Andros! Andros, hey – ow – hey, what is it?” 

“Hurts,” Andros managed to say, and he knew there was dismay above him even if he didn’t know how he knew, even if he couldn’t feel anything inside his head except _pain_. 

“Yeah, I got that part, buddy.” 

Another hand on him, stroking his hair. He couldn’t stop jerking, couldn’t stop trying to smack some other sensation into his head, but Zhane stayed with him for what felt like an hour. Until he finally managed to uncurl, and just. . . just lie there. 

His awareness of Zhane was back down to that tiny whisper again. Like when Zhane had been in cryo. Zhane must’ve closed down, too.

“I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay.” It wasn’t okay. It wasn’t at all okay, and even if Andros had only just met Zhane, he would’ve known that just from Zhane’s voice. “You didn’t even tell them anything about me, huh? Not that I would’ve expected detail. You’ve never been chatty. But you didn’t tell them I existed?” 

Hands under him, hesitant at first, then more sure as he didn’t cry out. The hands helped him sit up. Ah. He’d spoken to them. Maybe he hadn’t closed down as hard as Andros had. 

“No. No, I didn’t.” 

Zhane swallowed. “It’s that bad. What _happened?_ ”

Andros leaned forward, sagging against his knees. Zhane crouched in front of him, one hand on his shoulder. Andros couldn’t bring himself to meet Zhane’s eyes. “Everyone died, and you left.” 

“I know that part.” 

Andros’ voice was very small. “You left.”


	2. And back out

Yeah, he'd left.

Andros didn't blame him for it, that much was obvious from the pain in his voice when he touched Zhane's face and said so. 

Except Andros totally DID blame him for it. Somewhere down deep. Irrationally, because feelings weren't rational, and hells, Zhane got it. He did, he totally did. He was still mourning Zero, Yan, and everyone else, he was still upset about Karone, he was extra mad at Silla who was the most sensible, careful person he'd ever met and had gotten herself killed diving back into a burning house to help someone a couple days before Zhane near died himself. How could he not understand Andros having one doozy of a reaction to Zhane basically dying for two years? 

What was the guy supposed to do, be all open and sweet to everyone he met? 

It was a miracle that he hadn't driven Cassie and the others off the Megaship, with the force of his grumpiness. 

Cassie and the others were stubborn, too, and that was a miracle in itself. Zhane'd only spoken to them for half an hour, give or take, but he liked them. He liked that they'd been there for Andros, even if it'd only been for a short time. Andros would be worse without them. Much worse. 

He stroked Andros' hair again. Andros felt, physically, just like he always had. It'd been two years (two years!) for him, and a day or so for Zhane, but Andros' hair was soft and sleek and Andros still carried tension in the way he furled his shoulders together. Zhane kept his side of the bond clamped down hard, even though he felt deaf and blind with it. (How had Andros coped, for two years, without him?) 

"I'm here now. I'll make it better." 

Andros' self-hate was just like it always was, too. He glared at Zhane. "You don't have to do anything. You nearly died!" 

"Like you've never nearly died? I want to, you moron. You goof. You idiot," Zhane said, distressed, but he managed a smile when Andros gave him a cockeyed look.

"I love you, too." 

***

Zhane tried. 

Okay, fine, so he didn't try so good all the time. He played with them, and maybe let it go a little too far when they were convinced he was dying, and he made stupid comments to Ashley which pissed off Andros; but he stuck around, he re-energised his morpher (in a totally safe way shut up), and he bonded with the other four. 

They were _great._

Ashley was sweet, and hilarious. Cassie was a bag of mischief, knew the best pranks, and had the coolest hair. Zhane had no idea how she managed to keep it that silky and long. Carlos was earnest, and beat himself up like anything every time he screwed up, so that was - not good exactly, but it was helpful that Zhane had somewhere he could squeeze himself in there. He could try to reassure Carlos. Cassie was great at it, too. And TJ? 

TJ was perfect. Kind, careful, really good at working with Andros, and obviously a good leader. 

Sooooo. 

So after a few months, after a couple more times of opening himself up a little bit and feeling Andros' pain even if he was nowhere in sight, Zhane gave him a hug. He'd be fine. He had good support.

"I'll be around any time you need me," he promised Andros, feeling the tiny tingle on his hip that meant his soulmark - a single red flame - was reacting to Andros' presence. At least that was still happening. "I'll fight with you guys. I just have work to do."

Andros squeezed him in return, and Zhane was almost relieved to see the almost-relief in his face as he stepped back. He was making the right decision. 

"I get it."

***

Zhane didn't get it. He was giving up, wasn't he? It wasn't right. It wasn't what he did. Andros was his soulmate. How could he do this? How could he leave Andros alone like this? 

Except it seemed to be what Andros wanted. Or, if not what he wanted, what he needed. So it didn't matter if he didn't get it. It didn't matter if he walked around each day with only the smallest sliver of awareness of Andros, in the back of his head, and wondered now and then how the hell Andros had coped with that for two years. Didn't matter how. Andros had done it. He could do it, for Andros.

Right?

He helped out the rebels, fighting and building and farming. He slept alone. For weeks and weeks. He arrived now and then to help with megazord fights, and then -

"Get yourself back here. Please." Cassie's voice was frantic on the comm screen. He flattened his hand on the screen, wishing it wasn't just a recording. "He needs you. He found Karone."

 _Karone?_

Okay. 

Fine. 

So maybe he needed to shift his ass. 

He (and his ass, and a very fine ass it was too) found the Megaship where it was parked on Volluscant. Beautiful place, full of wide open spaces and colourful flowers, so of course everyone was inside. The four of them gathered around him in the landing bay. Only four? 

Ashley whumped into him from the front, then TJ whumped into her, reaching with long arms to hug Zhane as well. Cassie and Carlos were on either side of him, and they all looked tired. Zhane grinned, hugging them back, but he wasn't entirely stupid, and he knew Karone as well. He'd mourned her. 

TJ groaned, squeezing him harder for a moment, then he stepped back. "Astronema. She's been Astronema all along. Andros is shattered."

They caught him up, talking smoothly around and over the top of each other like they'd been a unit for years. Probably because they'd been a unit for years. Zhane wondered briefly about if they all had matching soulmarks. He thanked them, and padded off down the corridor to knock on Andros' door again. 

Not like it was, all those months ago. 

"Hey, it's me."

The door whooshed open. Zhane walked inside, as Andros stood up, notes scattering everywhere. There were tear tracks down his face, and he looked like he hadn't showered for a couple days. Hadn't slept in a week. His jacket was grubby on one shoulder, like he'd been thrown into something in a fight that day and hadn't bothered to wash his clothes. 

He thudded into Zhane's arms. 

_I can't do this without you._

Zhane stiffened, keeping himself clamped down. "I'll help. Of course I will. We gotta free her, Andros. It's okay, I'm here."

_No._

Zhane was breathing faster and faster. "I'll hurt you."

_Hurt me more when you left. My fault. Let me in. **Please.**_

Zhane had - had never really been able to refuse anything to Andros. He closed his eyes, and let a little of the wall down, and then Andros was flooding into him and he was crying and Andros was crying and Andros dragged his mouth down to his - 

_Don't let me hurt you._

Andros shook his head. _I worked with it. Every day. Got myself better at it, but you were so shut down I couldn't reach for you. The look on your face when you left, because you thought you were doing the right thing. You idiot._

_I'm the idiot, now?_

_You always have been, Mr Electrocute Myself!_

Zhane laughed, shaky and wondering. _You asshole._

_I should've tried harder to find Karone. Should've tried harder with you._

"Shut up," Zhane said, hugging him harder. _I obviously should've stuck around, and stop blaming yourself for everything. You have a good team here. They'll help you find Karone._

Andros kissed him, again. _**We** have a good team. Ah, I missed you...!_

Zhane's soulmark tingled. _Come outside for a while. You need some air._


End file.
